Examiner -- 1866-01-22 -- Page 01

tee ne eh tare seme

ttle

a sii a emesantiil

ee >
— a

7 as Mr
& riage, and with a auttable wamber ot attendants:
phe was a rich landed proprwtor, a justice of the |

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LIN

A WEEKLY JOURNAL OF POLITICS, LITERATURE

**'This iss t

YOE: ENT}

CHARLOTTET(

AW

KS

KK

AND

NEWS.

=

a a ES ———

rue Tiberty,

when Freeborn Men, haying to advise the Public, may speak free.” --- puripides.

WN. PRINCE EDWARD ISLAND, MO

NDAY, JANUARY 22,

1866,

C NO. 11

on account of the smoke, and—(Nelly Clarey,
Nelly Clarey, may-be it's myself wou't pay you off
tor your villany ; dou’t tell ne of the erows ; what
do 1 give you house-maid's wages for, but to look
after my best eitting-roows !)—Mise Dartforth,
ma‘am, is that baste (the cult ] mane) disagree-
able to ye ?—it's a pet, ye see, ow account of its
being white—quite white, Miss, every hair—and
lucky —Billy Thompsan, ye little, dirty spalpeen!
will ye have done draining the glasees into yer
well of a mouth !—it's kind, father, for ye to be
afther the whiskey, yet Ill trouble ye te keep yer
distance trow my counter—Corney Phelan, it ud
be only manners in ve to take the dudeen out 0’
your teeth, and the lady to the fore; I remember
when ye'd tuke it out afore me—why not 1—the
day ye married me, dacency aud dacent bloud en-
tered yer barrack of @ house, end wade it what
it ia, the most creditable inn in the country—Peg-
gy Kelly, ye’re a handy girl, jump up, asthore, on
the rafters, and cut a respectable piece of bacon off
the best end of the fiitch—asy—sey! mind the
hole in the wall, where the black hen is sitting—
there, just look in, for Dam thinking the ehickene
ought to be oat leomerrow or next day —
— Larry, ye stricken devil! bave ye nothin’ to do,

LITERATURE,

ELL EM

| From Mrs. S. C. Halts Sketches of Insh Character }

THE RAPPAREE.

dear, itis smoking up to
but it’s by ve manner o’

True for veu, ma‘ar
the mines, sure enough
clesome, more particularly at this
it will clear, my lady,

ban eving off now

Moving up, you mean,” replied the young
lody to whom this speech waa addressed, aud
whose eve followed the thick and curling sinoke
that twisted and twisted. in serpent- ike fo'lda,
around the blackened raflera of “Mr Corney
l’bel n'a Original Ino,” —so, at leat, the dwelling
was designated by the painted board that had
ener graced it, bul now played the part of dowt
to a dilapidated pigsty. Again, anol her velume
folded down the chimney, for so the orifice was
termed, under which the goed teupeced and rosy
Ne iveuring to kindle a fire,
with wet boughs and erumbling turt. The maid

wanes unwi
season. when its eo cou/d;

tute see, it a4

y Clarey wae end

wf the ion knelt before the unmanageable con. that ye stund ebuck m the doorway ?—are ye
beetitves, fhoning the Srcekermg flame with ber} tekin” pattern by yer wastere’s idleuesse—hbe that
; “ t 2 sane t 31 ; ty i we hs ol of nhac dyes nothin from mornin’ till night but drink whir-
is true, | ier sie t s e ts
and hundle. “Pine " - * she seid. compar key, smoke, sleep—slecp, emoke, and drink whis-
Bier ~ v, “it wauen’t i . it's n oir to snet Sie key 7? — Ob! but the beart within we 1 breakin’
. i ’ . a ; i i ‘ ¢
wl at i reel) tan
ever; and sure, wasters grandmother bought it tparly with the trouble bad ceas to ye all

‘there's the pratees beilin’ wad! and the beet !—
Dil rid the place of the whole clan of ye—for it’s
head, bands and eyes I am to the entire boiee—
ye crew !” &e. &e.—And the eloquent, burly ledy |
sprang, with the ewkward velocity of a steam. |
carriage. towarda the fire-place, oversetting
everything in ber way, to ascertaim bew eulinary |

| affairs were proceeding in two large iron vessels,
round which the witches in Macbeth might have
danced with perfect glee—so deep, and dark, and
fitting did they seem tor all the purposes of in-
cantation.

Much amused, the young lady patted the calf
whieh looked inte ber face with the unmeaning
innecence of expression which characterizes the |
aninal, and, a8 she stopped to conceal the smiles |
excited by Mistress Corney Phelan'a anger, the
lowsened tresees fell over ber brow and eyes; |
their re-adjustuient occupied a few momente— |
but when ebe looked up she saw a woman seated
opposite fo ber, whem ehe certainly bad pot
before noticed, and who she thought it very |
strange should bave eseaped ler observation; her |
dreaa bespoke the wendicant, and she eagerly |
stretched her bony aud mascular bands over the |
blazing turt fire; ber frame appeared chilied by
the cold of a keen October evening that wae fast |
closing—tor ber cloak rewained unfastened, and |
even the hood, that perfectly concesled ber tea- |
tures, waa unremeoved. Miss Dartforth could not |
help remarking that the cloak was much longer |
than is usually worn by Irish beggars, and the |
tuet whieh projected trom beneath ite ample |
tolds was covered by a substantial brogue. Once, |
and once only, the fugitive, but expressive, glance |
of a wild, bright eye met hers, and the idea that |
somewhere she bad before before evcountered a |
similar look possessed ber imagination. While |
she was endeavoring to remember the where and |
the when, ber father entered, attended by one or }
two of his eervante, and accompanied by a rela- |
tive, whe, according to the uneerably dependent |
feeling that, I regret to say, is not yet baniebed |
trom oy country, pleyed clerk, toudy, whipper-in, |
understrapper, or what you please, to bis patron, |
whe afforded biw bed, board, washing, clothes,
and shooting: kindly requiring, in return, that he
sbeuld act as uffidavit-man on all oceasious (par-
teularly when be recorded wondertul stories),
and laugh invariably at his jesta;—* Time out ot |
tnind euch duties wait depeudeuce.”” The jostice
was a free-hearted ian, frank aud violent, good. |
natured and obstinate, a talker of patriotiein, a |
| practiser of tyranny, and feuder of bis pretty
| daughter, Noro Dartforth, than of his beands,
Bhins- Dartineth-—" eure T'll mawe lt myadl With | Wie banters, or even bie landed interest. Ir was.
all the veins o my heart, te pleasure the lady at however, a well kuown aud aceredited tale feet
any time!—Give us a loan of the pitehtork. | he bad broken hie wiles heart by frequent fits oj
png. | Vielence; or, Gore properly speaking, be bad

‘To tell God's truth, master, it's broke and the irighteued ber out of the world wiule iu the prune
emith—bad look te him !—-terget te eall for it, of youth and delieate, hily-like loveliness; be then |
and litthe Paddeen forget it—but bere’s | fovk au vath, whieh, I believe, be religiously
the shevel li do as well. and better too, for it’s kept, et Se probs would get inte @ rage with |
ues god ata breem., Ree ine it’a eo Nealiy eplit at ae Caughter. Pine, pevertheluss, did out er
the broad end.” ** The master” took the shovel | S18 gelling Into passions’ with others, and, indeed
ret angrily, as an Englie master would bave his a, we must always be the een
done, at such neglect ; but tuking for granted | '* tiduiged in, Was round of sine and repent-
that a shovel would de as well asa pitebtork, wr | BEes- Phe county report went on to say that
a brece, or anything else, “ when it came asy to| here Was one error he wore surrowed over than
hand,” and perfectiy well satisfied with Larry's | Se test:— ‘ . : . :
ingenuity, he poked, and poked, ap the Previn abe Sometime after bis Oorrmnas disappoiuted in
while Ellen ateod looking oo at bis exertions, her | "Ot Deine blessed with au beir to his estate, be
head upturned, her ample mouth widg open, dis- adopted a boy of singular taleots and beauty whose
playing her white teeth to great advantage. Pre-| parents, bumble and industrivus cotters, died ot!
sently, down came aneh on accumulation of scot, | U@aheuant fever, near his avenue gate: this boy
dried aticks, clay, aud disigreeablea, that Nelly | °° cherished with all a fathers love and tender: |
placed her hands on ber eyes, and ran iv'e the | Sess, aud even the birth of a daughter, atter a |
kitchen, exelaiming “that ehe wae blinded for | ‘#P5¢ Of many yeore, did not appear to diminish |
lite;” while the young lady, half suffecated, tul-| the ailection be entertained fer the interesting |
lowed her example, and lett “mine best of the | youth. I ufortunately, over-indulgence nurtured oe
publie” to arrange bis crows’ nests aceording to proud and daring spirit, which, by different maw- |

tage, at the fair of Clon-
nor anything else, as |

bs good as thirty years
Suse as & Chrosily, more
Heard say

~ Are you sure,” interrogated the voung Indy,
after patientiy submiltir te be smoke-dried tor
many minutes — “tare you sure that the flue is
tiea ‘

Is it clear, my lady Why, then, bad cesa to
me for not thinking of that before !— eure I've
goed right te remember (him devile o' crows mak-
ing their nesteena in the chimbley; and it's only
when the likes o you and yer honorable father
step at the inn, that we ‘ight a fire ia this place
ai all.”

She took up the wasting ¢ indle. that waa stack
ien of a candlestick, and, placing
tormed foot on @ projecting eim-
if, dexterously eatehing
the huge beam that crossed the chimney with her

gaged hand, awung herself half way up the
yawning cavern, without apparet tly experiencing
auy the dense afmosphere
Alter mvestigating for e ome time, ** lraddy Dow-
ley '—Paddy Dooley” exclained,
here, like a good bey . wid the pitehtork, till we
niake way tor the smoke.”’

J ean't, Nelly honey, * rey lied Mister Pad ly
from a shed that was erected close to the “ par-
lour™ “arn't I atriving to fix a bit of a
manger, that his honeur’s horses way eat their
hay, and beautiful oats, dacenutly, what they're
accustomed to—but Larry can gu.”
' said Nelly, in a coaxing
lend us a hand here wid this pitel-

ina potato, it
a bare bat well-
brasure wear the basem

liseng

Ineoenvemence fran

ahe “* Gone

Wihdew,

* Larry, aveurneen
tene, do
fork.”

“Its quare mannera of ye, Nelly,—a dacent
girl bke ye, to be asking « gentleman like me for
bis hand (Larry, it must be underatoed, waa the |
bocher and wit of the establichmenty, and IT trying
tor the dear life te rasen wid this ould lady, and
take her keep in the aty; s4e nosed @ bole through
the beautiful sign.”

“Bad look te ye korh!” ejyeulated Ellen. |
angrily ; “* PH tell the marther, su I will,” she ad-
ded. jumping on the elay floor, her avpearance |
net at all umproved by ber accent. * Meather,
here's the bows and the crows. after botherin’ me:
them te beip oe dewnu with the nest ? /
—the lady*s shivering alive with the could, end
net a sparkle of fire to keep it from ber heart.”

* Pron't you be alter be therin’ we, Nelly,” re-
pled the best: “but [ax parden for my unman

Wil ven tes

neriness,”” he continued, coming inte the reom—
his pipe stuck firmly between hie teeth, and bix

retand person steopiig in a bowing attitude te

o late

|

his faney. The kitehen of an Irvh inn (not an | 2eement, could have been tamed to the gentle

inferior place of public accommodation — but and enovbling duties of tite. The bey grew in
what would be termed in England a “ posting beauty, and tuereased in talent; but he aise be-
house’), at the period of which I treat, would | C8™me Imperions and overbearing; even if Mr |

Dartforth and bis gentle lady were inclined to |
make allowances tor bis wayward fancies and in-
solent actions, the very buublest sert on his de- |
main was lovd in complaints of the parrenu's ty- |
rauny; and the wortby man, who bad obstinately |
pereisted in a new-fangled idea, which be bad tn |
bibed from some of the French authore of the |
period —that the buman mind was of itself per- |
tection, and that there were no impul-es given |
that needed restraint—persevered in his “ sys- |
tem,” as he ealled it, until the iuipetuous James
brought himeselt into the strong arm of the law, by |

now be considered as amore befitting shelter for |
a tribe of Zingari, than for Christman travellers;
it was a reoem of large dimensions, and high ele
vation, with an earthen floor worn into many in- |
equalities, and an enormous bole m the root |
direetly over where the fire waa plaeed, through
whieh the amoke atter hanging, as it
were, in tantastie draperies around the discolored
apartment. A massive bar stood out from the
wall, agama, or tearly guinet, which the fire
was lighted, and from it were suapended sundry
crooks aud wondeseript choins, fitting for the sup- b
port of iron pots and such cooking vessels as were | 3 Oped act of violence, directed against ane ot
pot requisition, when * qviality ” stopped, hia protector 8 brother magistrates, which, but for
either trow weeessity, or tor refreshment, in the | fhe interpesition of pewertul friends, would have |
wild and mountainous district where resided Mr. | banished bim the country. It would have been
Corney Phelan; indeed, the house was trequeuted | better, perhaps, had the law been suffered, at |
more by farmers’ drovers endeavoring to conduct | that time, to take its course. He returned home |
wild mountain sheep te the markets of Watertord, | With au insulted, but unsubdued, spirit, and the |
er even Dublin (and [ have new in my possession | femMonstrances of bis well-tneaning but il judgig |
some old family memoranda, which state the price |! tend were heard with v ixible symptoms of Impa-
paid tor such animals, et that time, to have | Nenee Poe voice of reproof sounded harshly on
been two shillings aad six pence per head), and the ear that, for eightero summers, had listened
persons in that sphere ot le, than by such gentry te notbing but the honey ed accer.ts of praise. tn]
Dartforth, who travelled in his own car-) 2" evil hour, when both were heated with that |
nexious spirit—of which 1 cannot sufficiently ex- |
press my detestation, having tee often witnessed |
its banetul and pernicious effeets—words termi- |
be readily eupposed that the arrival of persons ot nated in blows: Mr, Darttorth struck his protege, |
rank was a matter of impertanee, and that seme | and the other, Whose tiger spirit could 1 brook
preparations were made in the “ parlour,” a it | sueh an insult, herled his almost faiher to es]
}
i

esc a pec

Inte

peace and M P tor the connty town. It may

was called, while the worthy magistrate ecenpied | earth. It is not too probable that merder would
it inspecting the accommodation provided }have terminated the disgraceful scene, had not
for hie horses in the ontchonses, The animals had | Norah, roused from her hight and innocent alum. |
wnidergone much fatigue, for the gentleman and | bers by the feartul noise ot the unnatural combat,
his daughter had journeyed from Dublin: and | rushed between them, and in an mestant, her soft, |
when he drew near the dw ellungs of some of his | but energetic voice awoke the siemperate youth |
prineipal tenants, be bad called upon them, as| (0 a sense of his crime and pampnetes eves
“gale day” was passed, to collect his rente, The | membrance ot the insult inflicted was tflaced ry
reads leading te these dwellinge had, in many in- | 4 sense of the evil he bad done, and he humbled
Stanees, been rendered heavy, and nearly impas-| himeelf, even to the dust, at Mr Dartforth 8 ie
soble by the rains; the heres were almost foun- | Chen was the moment, when bis beart and foel-
dered; and, altuengh within a few miles of home, | 1g" could have been caught on the rebound, bu
Ht Waa fond imporsible to proceed without giving | the wrathful and intoxicated _man curred the |
them some hours’ rest. Mes Dartforth, with the | Stripling in the madness of his rage—it was a
Cheertulness and good nature so charming in fe-| deep, @ bitter, an irreeallable, curse—that made
the maidea’s warm bleod run cold in her veins,

Por reamesi t

—he left, forever, the halls that bad sheltered
his childhood,

Great as James's faults certainly were, it was
said that Mr. Darttorth secretly blamed bimself
for the resnit; but even Norah was mterdicted
from mentioning the name of the once favoured |

Chinetances, A Mf her " "9 save te'ahe hand withered the heart of the unfortunate wiotten
Fought, with the ken of A | ughing blue eye, for | of intemperate passion. Pale, trembling witb va-|
What a woman, however old and ugly, would fain | med emotion, he erouched, for a moment, beneath
eee Ih every reom—a lowicinog giass—shook back | the ban—then rising, as the young menif-hamnd |
her clustering tresses, which twined in wild luxu- | from his lar, without a werd, a grean, ora ar
ranee over her gracetul fornia: then, partially wn- | —without even an adieu to her who bad, regard: |
Clusping a silverlaced riding-habit, she made her | leas of her own interest, often palhated bis faults |
wey aund five or six barelegged ¢ helpers,” seme
€-fene ot Varions-sized pigs tow! and collies, toa

tireelegged aeat near the fire. close toa petted /

white calf. that had eatablicied itself very quietly

ena “lock of straw,” in the sost comfurtable

pertion at the apartwent She then commenced |

leisurely investigating the whime and oddities of | boy, who, it was believed, had quitted the aecaiat
the assembly ; aud the emilew that vecasionally se- | try for some fur distant land. ‘Luere were, pew:
parated ber full tich lips, showed she was an| ever, many who asserted that, after Patrick |

James had left Mr. Dartforth, ** his honor had
never been rightly his own man ;” and, indeed, it
was evident to al! that his temper and habits had
not improved since his protege had abseonded. a
As the magistrate seated timself on a ebair,
which the bus'ling landlady efficieusly presented”
him, next to bia gentle and affectionate child—
“his heart’s darling,” as he termed her, in the
wari language ot Lrish phraseology, that daugh-
ter thonght she had sce seen her father’s cheek
ole, or his eye 80 rayless. {
maps father {” she exclaimed, pressing ber

amniaed epeetator of the
appeared in contusion = the indiady, whose mob |
Cop Was trimmed with a lave bed-gown of stripe |
ed cotton, beneath which a searlet petticoat, ul
Duteh dimensons, stuck forth : she wae the only
female in the establishinent who luxuriated iu
thoes and stock ings—the to ner were conned on
the instep, by rich silver buckles ; and, though she
eceasionally sat with much «tate behind a eeiled
dal beard. v ‘ch preseuted a various assortment
pa iy pn Weasures, aud was garnished at either |
¥ Kegs of whiske , yet did she ke = dave esi
sary, and not silent font ul we peas ‘the a left cheek to his, ** sit at the opposite wee 7 pai
Menta of the various groupe Some idea of her | move with yeu — you are chilled. but . pas
cater or, More prope rly speaking, her ob- | will be quite shielded from the draug to
ervations (tor she never waited for a reply), may | vor.” . P
poset ge: re Be -ay for yer betthers, honey !” sereame
d from the following:— | Make way for y erage lige ot ee

ved to retinquish her seat to
usual thing iu Ireland,

meange. Everything

finish picking the few fenvhera off did not seem inclis
)—~my lady, 1 huobly ask your pardon | “the gentry ;" & Very Un

will ye pever
that bird?

| ibe redcoale, wailing to cross the contrary wav.

| lordxnip,’ replied the sargent, * we've just bead

|‘ Could ye describe him?’ says the judge.

lenetor twict broke on their ears.

end ot the kitchen.

where so much outward homage is rendered to, was accordingly set in the centre of the kitchen,
the aristocracy. “Good woman,” interposed and covered, 1 not with elegant, certainly with
Miss Dartforth, coming up to her, and placing | substantial, fare ;—boiled fowl, enormous nonde-
her hand gtntly on ber shoulder, “wall yon ublige | seript masses of beef, “ neatly boulstered up,” te
‘ine by exchanging seats, as my father suffers by ‘wae Mrs. Phelan’s terms, with fine white cabbage
the draught trom which your cloak protects and English carrots; potatoes, of course, were
you?” not wanting; and the travellers were too hungry
" ‘The beggar rose, and leaning, as if from exees-| to be fastidious. Muss Dartforth, who never for-
sive weakness or faligue, on her staff, crossed
over to the other side, at the same time mutter-
ing some taint words, which neither father nor
daughter could comprehend. | the wendicant, but to her surprise, the woman
“Ia the woman deaf and dumb?” inqnired | had disappeared as mysteriously as she hed euter-
Mr. Dartforth, angry, perbaps, at her tardiness | ed! she was about to express ber surprise at this
of motion. | circumstane +, when Nelly Clarey (who, blooming
“She's ax good—juat then ae good as the one | under a cap which, in some degree, confined her
and t’ other,’ replied the becker, cenmng torward, | clustering hair, and was ostentatiously garnished
dexterously managing so as te inake his eruteb | With cherry coloured ribands, stood behind ber
supply the place of his lost leg. “ She's an afflict- chair to the manifest annoyance of Mr. Daurt-
ed crathur -— God presarve us !— but harmless, | forth’s old servant, whe always claimed the privi-
and’s under a vow never to let the boed fall off ieges of waiting personally upon “his young
ber head, iv rain or sunsbine—beat or cold—aight lady”), touched ber arm, whispering, at the same
or day; and, what’s wore, pever to lay side on a! time, * For God's sake, never heed ber.”
bed for the mext seven years. Ob! there’s a| The Octoberevenings in Ireland are damp and
power o' holiness about her, plaze yer bonor.” dreary ; po have they the uniformly clear sun-
[suppose ahe has committed some dreadful | seta, or invigorating atmosphere, which charae-
crime, for which the religion yeu believe in re-| terize the farewell summer mouth in England.
quires such atonement?” | Phe weeping skies of Ireland bave become almost
“Crime! the erathur!—bless ye, no: she’s as | proverbial ; but, even while they weep, they smile
invecent vo’ crime, or passion, or anything o’ that | —apt emblem of the happ ly volatile tempera-
sort ae yer bonor, Och! no—the poor thing’s | ment of a people who have suffered much, and
beart aches for the sins vo’ the world—she wishes | suffer still, J learned in early you'h to Jove the
to ease 'em.”’ | quickly closing evenings of autumn, and, at times,
“A female erying philosopher!” observed Mr. | delight more in rain than in sunshine. I must,
Dartforth te his daughter. however, resume the thread of my narrative, and

her own dinner wae ended, turned to present i! to

got the wants of others, heaped a plate, alter the |
Irish fashion, with meat and potatoes, and, before |

Frenevy, the robber and the outlaw, felt the
/reproving voice from ‘star, and flower, and

uncertainty and waywardness of what he, in hs

| olindness, designated FATE.
| “* There is a bitterness in man's reproach,
Even when his voice is mildest. and we deem
That on onr heaven-born Freedom they encroach.
| And with their frailties are ugt what they seem ;
But the soft tones in star, in flower, or stream,
O'er the unresisting bosom gently flow,
| Like whispers which some spirit in a dream
Brings from her heaven to him she ioved below,
| To chide and wiu bis heart from earth, and sin,
| and woe”

stream ;’ and the brief vision of one who, had he
conducted himself with common propriety, wight
have been the cherished and respected wife of
his bosom, sent many a bitter pang of self-reproach
through his aching beart. He contrasted what
he was, with what he could have been; few are
there who can bezr 80 miserable a retrospect
unmoved.

He had seen Norah Dartforth not an hour be-
fore, and the remembrance of her surpassing
loveliness pressed upou his imagination, in geatle
but firm opposition of the efforts he made to
obliterate ber image from his memory. Poor
Nelly Clarey, whom, with [rish recklessness, be
had often jested with, forgetting -the impression
such conduct might have upon a thoughtless, but
not a heartless girl—-in bis present refined mood
now appeared a coarse aud vulgar creature ; and
he felt mere angry with Hacket, for the insinu-
ation he had threwn out about her, than for any
other portion of bis remonetrance. At leagth,
overcome with contending feelings, he rested his

“ And yet there is something that, under other | mention that, at about the distance of a hundred
cireumatauces, would be called philosophy, about | or a hundred-and-twenty” yards from the hag-
it,” replied Norah. “ How often ia it that situ-| yard, which flanked the inn on the gorth, and
ation and influence command the homage which, | protected it from the cold winds, ran a long wall,
at first eight, appears paid to the virtue, not the | intended originaily as a division between the |
person!” | firms of two brothers who had sacrificed their |

“Misa Norry, you are growing too wise fur | property in litigation, and died at last poor and |
ine,” said the male tuady, who was called, by his | penniless — the one in a distaut land, where be {
associates, “Swallow-all Diek ;” by hia superiors, | had been sent by the off-nded laws of bis coun-
* Dick ;” and by bis inferiora (meaning those who | try; the other in a jail. The wall was called by
honestly Worked for their living)“ Mister Dick.” | the countay people, “the brother’s ban,” and a
He stuod, with his bands in bis pockets, before the | good deai of superstitious feeling attached to it.
fire, to the wanitest inconvenience of all engaged | Many of the stones had fallen to the earth, and
in preparing the anticipated meal. lover them the gay green weeds had triumphed,

“ What a wouder that is, to be sure!” motter-| while others showed dimly in the moonlight, and
ed Lawe Larry, ‘as if you were one who could | might have been easily converted, by the magic
ehee the gosliua, catch a Aevasel asleep, or spit a! of imagination, into things of living an] mysteri-
sinbame.”’ jous form. A few stunted elms, with bere and

* Hae there bean much news stirring lately—I | there a dark popular, waved gently in the chill
mean duriag wy absence?” inquiced Mr. Dart-| evening air; and, although the langh and wassail
forth, addressing Larry, who certatoly was the | sounds of the inn talkers and revellers called to
woxt intelligent peraon of “the Original Ion.’ | remembrance the proximity of human habitation,

“ Oaly afew more of Freney’s tricks playing | yet the undefinable dreariness of the spot was in-
here, and there, and everywhere, pluze yer | creased, rather than broken, by the shadows of
heweur.”’ }two persons, i earnest conversation, the one

* The raeeal! bas any one yet discovered who | passing rapidly backwards und forwards with a
he is, or where he came trom?” tirm, undaunted step — the other halting, or ra-

“ Lord, no, sir!—s® bedy might as well hunt | ther hopping, after the superior, endeavoring, in
and catch a leprechawn as him; did yer bonour | vain, to keep pace with him, yet bearing his rapid
hear how he sarved the judge and jury, at the | strides and uopatient temper with extraurdinary
ferry vo’ Mount Garrett!) Weil, ye see, there was | good humor.

a lot of fire-arme be wanted to get over; and the |“ Fine times, to be sure, they must be wid ye,
beatwan teuid him ae how he daren't let hiw pass, | when ye let a good seven hundred —I dare say
in raaou that the judge waa going to cross in the | gould — hard goold — slip through yer fingers as
course of the day, aud bis people were Keepin’ | asy as kiss my band; the boys “Il never stand it;
the boat. ‘Is that ail?’ saye Freney, suys he— | how could they ?”’ observed the lame one.

the blue eye dancin’ out of bis head wid seorn, at} ‘ Not stand it! What the devil do you mean,
the little wito’ the beatwan ; and he goes bis way. | Hacket, when there ia not an ounce of brains
Wei, jist a# the judge, and all the law and the | among a troop of them? Way, Breen bunself
country—(yer bonour’s glory wae out of it at the | dare not—ay, L say dare not—dispute my will in
same tine, ye know, se it didu't take up much | anything.”

roew )—the law aod the justice all packed tight “Maybe not; but I know he looked mighty
and comfortabie iv the boat, aw need be—up | black wheu | tould bim ye meaut that old Huncks
comes # poor blind ould erathur of a wan—seem- | to get home seot-free.”

‘ugly #8 dark as dungeon, leadin’ a baste with a “Black! did he?) I wish IT had seen him. I
load of brooms of bis back. ‘Och, my misery!’ | tell ve, Hacket bis gold, if [ touched it, would
says the ould crathur—setting up a pushalew that | blister my fingers—it would kindle bell’s own fire
‘ud reach trom this to Bantry,—-" and iv’s Vil be | within my heart. Por fifteen years [ eat of his
too late, God beip me! and wise the market’ | bread, and even his own child, that creature
Well, yer honour, for once the judge listened to | whose pure and spetle-s hand, net two hours
inarey—and a poor man the pleader, ‘Come. | since, rested on my shoulder—(it war like a dove
benest friend,’ says be. * We ll wake reom fer you, | seeking repose on a haw k's wing) — even when
aud yer baste can swim over” ‘God mark ye to} that chiid was born, the same shelter, the same
ylory,’ says the ould wan; ‘but what'll [do with |emile wasmine. Blessed Virgin!” be continued,
wy broowe?’ ‘Lay ’em in the bettow of the | striking bis torebead silently, “ you, a poor dis-
boat,’ gaye the judge; and they all got over com-| membered, blighted creature, can understand
fortuble together, Well, when they reached the | that yeu couldu’t tear the hand that fed ye.”
other side, sure as life there wasa whole troop of |“ It was a pity,” replied the bocher (for my
readers have doubtless discovered that Larry and
Hacket are ene aud the same person), while a
cold sareastic smile overshadywed the usually
yood-natured expression of his countenance, “a

|

* What ace ye alter (’ saye the judge. * Piaze yer

that the daring rascal, Fieney ia over the water, |
with firearms, and combustibles, and contr | aurderin’ pity that ye didn’t th.uk of that when
vances enough to blow up ould Ireland, and mur- ye ye had the littl row.” He would have
der it entirely : and that he wants to get to this said, “ when ye struck him te the earth; buat in
side, and waylay and destroy every mother’s son | the dim light be marked James Freney’s eye
at the "sizes; ee we're going to step him.’ ‘God | flashing upen bim, ard he finished his sentence,
less ye for Chat same !’ said the ould crathur of a modified even as it was, ia a trembling voice.
man, setting hie breome on his baste at the same} The unhappy young man remained silent for a
lime; Sit was only yesterday that the rapparee | few moments, while the rapidity of his pace in-
took every fardio’ 1 had in the world—and only |ereased At length Hacket ventured to observe
left me these fe. screeds of clothes; and if he’s | that the gang had lately been very discontented
let go on that way, neither gentle ner simple will | with his liberality—partieularty to Lady Duncan-
be alive in the country, this day three months’ | non, whose money he bad returned, merely be-
‘ He's | cause her husband was net with her, and even re-
a good portly man to my seeing,’ made answer | fused to take her watch set with diainonds, which
the ould erathur, ‘ Middling-sized — middiing- | they considered robbing them of lawful plunder.
sized,” repeated the sargent, stepping into the |‘ Ay,” he said, mourniully, “itis ever thus: as
voat; ‘1'd know him ten miles off, if the devil | well migh’ the lordly lion, that I have read of,
himself set him a smoking.’ The ould man gave | mate with the base-born ass, that brays at the
a cbuck of a laugh, and off wid him, atter making | moon, 38 one of gentle breeding assimilate with
his obedience, mannerly, to the great gentlemen | such a set—but I am a fool to talk thua to you,
—and the beat and the soldiers towed away for | Hacket—and worse than a fool to have chosen
the other side; aud the judge and grandees ya- | such a life; but the die is east, and [ am a dread.
thered themselves up, quite shyish-like, on the | ed, degraded outlaw, whose miserable bones will,
horses that were waitin’ tor them — and, by the | one of these days, rattle on a gibbet. in the March
time they were settied, from the top almost of the | winds and seorch there in a July sun—while you
hill that ye toind is so overgrown with osiers, and | —you, Hacket— wy poor mother’s only relation,
all kinds of creepin’ bushy herbs, came a lond, | will be the sole living thing to shed a tear in re-
wild langh—and they looked up, one and all, and | membranee of him, who, instead of hisown honest
sure enough, there was a sight to frightey the | name, was called James Freney,
tories !—every pliant seemed grown into a livin’? | “No sueh thing,” replied the bocher, notwith-
man, With a musket on his arm, by way of a ! standing his habits and associations, much moved
shoulder knet, and * Freney’s brooms are the | at teelings, which, although he could not enter
brooms that'll sweep clean!’ shoited the fellow. | into, be could syrepathise with, situply because
Our brave little, commander tor ever!’ reared | they affected ove whew: he sincerely loved, not
another; and then Freney biwself stepped upon | inerely for the sake ef kith and kin, but from
the ancient grey rock at the tep of all, and wav-, mingled and undefined sensations, “ No such
ing bis hat, with the air of a raale nobleman, he | thing; yow ll live, and make a fortune. and get the
bowed to the company below. ‘I'll find an op-| pardon. Sure, you never harm anything to death,
portunity of returuin’ ver lordship’s civility ; and | and are so complaisant to the ladies, that a wo-
you or yeurs shall never be harmed by me or | man’s neb ‘ud save ye, If ever if came ta that,
side? suys be; ‘and I hype you won't forget | Ye may be a lawyer yet; Pin sure ye understand a
Freney and the ferry of Mount Garrett.” Well,
before ye could say ‘Cork!’ there were the osiers
waverin’ in the wind, so innecent-like, and the}
men gone, as a whiff o’ swoke; only, as the gran-
dees passed up the bank, wild, cheerful laeghter
Aud mavbe
the sargent and his lobsters weren't dancin’ mad
in the boat with fair spite, jist over the way; and
they foreed the doatman te low about, and, seme-
bow or other, as he was turnin’, the vessel upset ;
and sueh seramblin’ and elawin’ as they had to t
get safe ashore, and their ammunition all wet, | priests, and bishops, and the blessed Virgin her-
and their firelocks spit; and then they would | selt, were to absolve me the next minute, Ll would
have it the boatman did it a-purpose, and swore, not—I could not!—There’s the share T bad out
they'd bagnet him; the poor tellow was fright-|ot the Waterford merchants, that troublesome
ened — why net? —and got away out of their job; why half the plunder now is hid up and down
reach, just in time to save his life. {the country. in beg-holes and brner-knocks; but
* But that’s nothin’ to the eseape he had, not | my share they shal have of that, and of anything |
long since, when he hid in a hay-rick, and seven | elee going. A kind commauder I have ever been,
soldiere passed bim, and every one prodded the | and mean to remain; but I wll be their com-
rick with their bagnots; and, every time they | MaNDER while my brain bas strength to frame a
did, it went into bim; for all that, sorra a stir | resolution, or my finger power to draw a trig-

dale more about it than the halt of ‘em.”

“You gave my positive instructions to Breen,
that all were to pass eafe 2”

“[T did, thongh I thought it mighty foolish ;—
for just look here, naw—the ould justice owes ye
—eure it’s uot trusting te seven or eight hundred
pounds of his money ye’d be, if ye’d remained
wid him? Didn't he breed ye up tor his heir?
[sn’t a promise a debt? — and there can be no
harm in takipg what’s one’s own.”

“T tell ye what, Hacket, it all the saints, and

did he stir, only stud it ont like a Trojan.” | ger. ’
“ He has had a great many eseapes by flood and * Well—well—yer heart’s set upon it, agra!
enough said; fer, as [ live, the ould justice is on

field, papa; I feel quite interested in bim; be is,
} have beard, brave and genercus, and particu- | the move.
larly attentive to females,” observed Norah. with the eandle, lookin’ for me; and Paddy
« Ay, girl!—you are like the rest of your sweet | Dooley, too; and the sarvin’-inen—the over-fed,
sex; give a man a character for bravery, and no | poor porpoises, crawlin’ about ;—but, Captain,
matter whether he be brigand, or soldier, or rap- | dear, ye ll never be able to get your horse, Beef-
paree, You are all ready te defend bis cause; and | stakes, ont of the back shed, unknownst, while !
my life on’t, if this Freeney, the cut-throat, re | them lazy arimals are loungin’, doin’ nothing’, at
ceived womankind reeruits, the bushes would be | all, at all.” i ;
eavered with cast-off drapery.” “Too true,” replied Freney, evidently much
“Dear papa, he is no eut-throat — no single | annoyed at this information. “I meant to have
deed of blood is registered against bim; and the | been off before them.” :
instanees 1 have heard of his charity, taking from | “ D’ye hear that girl screaming ‘ Larry’ like a
the rich to give to the poor, bestowing even from | skirl-a-white? Choke ye, a‘n't FP going!" Larry |
his own purse to clothe the naked, and feed the | moved several steps towards the farmyard ; then, |
hungry, have, I confess, interested me in his fate ; , as if remembering something particular, returned,
L do uot feel the least afraid of bim ” ‘and said, “ Mister Captain, I jist wanted te tell
“Nor never need, Miss, my lady,” observed

ye that I fancied, may-be, ye were throwin” a)
the bocher, bowing, “ Pil answer for it, that James

I see Nelly Clarey herself, pokin’ out

sheep’s-eye after Nelly; now, I’ve always had a|
Freney ‘ud spill the best drop of his heart’s blood | mind to that girl, myself. Ay, ye may elap a}
for one smile from yer sweet face; sure’s he's | sneer on yer handsome face, if ye hke; bat thongh |
every ineh an [rishman.” | 1 own to the loss of the limb, Pin no bad fellew |
«You know him then?” ingnired Miss Dart-| to look at when the diaguse js off, and a tidy bat |
forth, eniling and blushing—tor I dare not deny of a wooden leg on; there's a time for all things ; /
the fact that all women like a delicately-turned | and T knew you'd never think of her as your wife,
compliment even from a bocher. i bur I tell ye, that barefvoted lass deserves honor- |
“fecan't say but I've seen him,” replied the able tratement; and it would be what 7 don’t |
man, shifling off, at the same tine, to the other deserve, let alone Aer, to have her Sead turned for |
It must net be imagined that | nothin’ at all, but, may-be, to make her an open

this dialogue had proceeded, even thus far, with- shame before the whole country ; so let ber alone, |
out sundry interruptions from worthy Mistress and for once take a fool's advice.” The bocker
Cornelius Phelan, who was all bustle and anxiety swong off towards the rade stables, leaving the)
at the impropriety of such visitors dining in the
kitchen; “ and sure the parlour was cleared, and
but little smell o” smoke mit new,” &e., &e.
Both gentlemen and lady, however, persisted in‘ up in the long blue cloak that had bad served te
their determination not to enter the “ ecrow’s conceal his person at the inn, and ruminated, as
nest,” as Noval laughingly called it; and etable he recliued agaiuet the mouldering wall, on the

that ever intested the country, in an irritated and |
melaneboly frame of mind.

rapparee, eaptam of one of the most daring gangs |

He folded himeelf |

head against one of the huge, white stones, | have
before mentioned ; and even while he watched the
flitting lights in the ian-yard, sleep steeped his
eyes in fo geifulness.

* Captain, dear, what ails ye?" were the kindly
sounds whieh awoke him to consciousness.
** Lord save us! jist at the very miuute whin ail,
the wit ye have in the world is most wantiu’, to
find ye sleepin’ in this unlucky place, in the could
moonlight, aud not lookin’ a taste like yerself
Rouse, Captain, honey! or thuse ye wish well
to'll be the worse for it.”

The robber eagerly and anxiously inquired
what the young women's words portended.

“ Whist—-asy !"" exclaiuned Nelly, 1n a low con-
fidential tone; “‘ sure they thiuk I'm asleep; for
you dou’t look to me sensible that it’s close upon
eleven, and the mistress's tongue itself is quiet a
good hour agone; and the gentry set off afore
nine; and there's more hot foot atter them, than
you'd have a mind te, Pm thinkin’.”’

“ Nelly, fur Gud’s sake, come to facts at once,
or “g

*L will; sorra-a- word Tha’ said that wasn’t az
true as gospel—but let me tell it wy own way.
[ heard ye say to Larry (the poor, coneeated cra-
ture!) that ye wanted most particular to see
Breen; well, tor sartain sure, the bocker tould
him so, for be bas been skulkin’ about the place
all day ; but instead of coming to the fore, I notie-
ed him hidin' and pokin’ more like a grasnogue
than a Christian. Well, ye see, | went ont about
the stables, jist to cool myself, after the cookin’,
and the flurry o’ dinner, and the quality, and all;
aud, somehow, my hight (though 1 made a screen
tor it, with a cabbage leat), went out just at the
winute I thought o’ fodderin’ the cow, the era.
thur, that the boys don’t balf mind; so, kuowiu’
she doesn't like to be ‘woke of a suddeut, 1 went
asy to the door, and jist as | was going to pull out
the kipeen (not that the door’? much good, on ac
count of the gap i the wall), | bard Breen in low
discourse with anotber mau, that ['d no know-
ledge of in lite: and he went on for to tell bim
hew unreasonable ye war’ in regard o' takin’ a
turn out o’ the ould gentleman's money ; and how
he wouldn’t listen to no such thing—but purtend
to you, whin It was all over, that it was nothin’
pat a misunderstandin , and down-taece the becker
that be said one thing, when, to the hearin’ of my
own two eurs, the poor thing sald the direct
contrary.”

* The villian !-—the double-dealing mean-spirit-
ed villian !" ejaculated Freney.

“Ye may say Uhat,’”’ responded Nelly, “ but
wait a while till ye knew all. ‘fm sartin, says
Uotber man, ‘ that the captain ‘ll take te the read
after them, by the way of purtection, for be has
a suspicion over you, When anything like this is
stirriu’; and ye kuow there’s not one o the boys
‘ad disobey the captain.” ‘Im sure he's fer the
road,’ says Breen, ‘ for Hacket tould me Beet
stakes Was in the saine cow-shed, at the back,as my
Slasber ; and more betokens,at the rght-hand side.
‘And a noble pair o° bastes they are,’ remarks
tother; ‘ but Beetstakes is terrible knowin’, aud
sorra a harm it would be to put a peg to his speed
for to night.” ‘What do you meau!’ says Breen
‘ Bathershin,’ makes answer the strange man,
‘you don’t know; why, just run a nail up the
fetlock ; eure it’s only an accideut, aud nobody
the wiser.’ ”

“The eold-blooded seoundrel!’ muttered the
captain between his firmly-set teeth, * the noble
horse that has 80 often saved my life!”

“ Well, they coshered, and coshered, so asy. 1
couldn't make out the words,” persisted Neily,
“only the short and the leng of it was, that the
stranger was to go and lame the beast at once ;
and, they couldn't get the annuals out while the
sarvents were about the house, jist wait till they
were gone, and then, takin’ the sport road to the
black gap, wait there for the company. May-be
ye think ye have it all yer own way, says 1; out
better than you dave got into the wrong box. Se
[ stole off asy, asy, under shelter of the wall, till
[ cleared the corner, and then away with me in
a whink to poor Beetstakes. And what do ye
think J did? 1 mauded well what had been said,
that your baste was on the right side; so I jist
made ‘em change places; and, my jewel! atore
you could clap yer hands — afore | could make
way for myself to get out o’ the serip of a shed,
the murder black villain comer; and sure it’s
myselt was afeerd of the horse’s heels, and I
serudged up into a were pothin’ right under
Beetsiakes’ legs. And, as if the baste knew the
business, he never stirred all the time the fellow
was lamin’ bis own animal. Weill, when he
thought his job finished, captain, honey, be skulk-

can be said of the men.” He sprang lightly inte dread of revolt atongst his gang, but from the re-
| ins saddle, and Boefstakes, as if conscious that | currence, at such a moment of reeallectons that

freedom cf a loosened bridle; horse and rider
were soon ont of sight.

able, almost roofless, apartment, in which her
couch was spread, acd where she soon sweetly
and travquilly slumbered, as if she had never
known sorrow, or revelled in tears.

I know net how it is, but there is a epecies of
——must I call it eoquetry 7—-(1 do not mean the
regular coquetting system absolutely taught to a
young female on her entrance into fashionable
life, and which, in nine cases out of ten, from ite
visible arrangement, is perfectly harm'ess, and
not unfrequently decidedly dixgusting)—-but a
sort of natural witehery. born, 1 may say, with
every genuine Trishwoman, and which, in the cot-
tage, is parteeularly striking and fascinating.

To those who have not witnessed it, [ fear my
description would appear unnatural, simply be-
cause unkeown; those who hace, must be heart.
lese if they have not felt, and do nut remember, ite
charm. 1] cannot think it overstrained to call it
the coquetry of innocence, for in it there is nei-|
ther art vor guile; it plays most bewitehingly in
their bright and beaming smiles, when they blush
at the remembrance of their earnest and heartfelt
laughter; aud, though a young [rish girl will sel-
dom look at a stranger, except “ out of the cor-
ner of her eye,” the glance has nothing sinister or
suspicious about if, but discourses at the samme ino-
ment modestiy, yet frankly; it is as apart from
French flippanecy as from English stiffuess, and
yet partakes of the gajety, but pot the Jightnesa,
of the former, blended with the reserve, without
the formality of the latter.

Freney pursued his course towards the high
read, and murmured within himeelf, in no gentle
tertws, at the impediments in his way; the by-path
was little more than a sheep-trail, aad much bro-
ken by heavy and coutinued raims; and, more-
over, the moon (“pale, inconstant planet’ ) with
drew her light just at the time when our hero
required it most. Beefstakes, however, knew
his road well, and Freney lett him pretry nearly
to his own guidanee, content with new and then
eucouraging bis speed by some kind word of ap-
proba ion. or an occasional 7; cessure of his heel
against his flink. The read they had taken led
almost abruptly to the top ef a wild, uncultivated
hill, or rather what, in Eagland, would be deno-
minated a mountain; and, as the animal was
gaining its summit, his master heard, er fancied
he heard, the report of a gun or pistol; the horse,
tuo, evidently gave token that the well-known
sound of fire-arms broke upon his ear, for he
snorted and shook bis head, while pressing more
eagerly onward.

Freney suddenly checked the rein, and leaning
completely over the neck of his noble animal,
seemed as ‘f inhaling whatever sounds the night
wind bore + the hiil; the pause, though momen-
tary, was» * enough for bis purpose: be mut.
tered a deep sw curse, too feartul for repetition,
and urged ' * impetuous animal to its utmost
aperd. It 8 a noble steed, and cleared every
impediment chat obstructed its progress, vaulted
the highest enclosures, and, having attained the
summit of the hill, snorted the combat afar off as
he dashed, in gallant style, down the deelivity,
with distended nostril and fire-striking foot.
Fortunately, the moon threw a full and glorious
flood of hght on their path, eo that, even in the
distance,Freney distinetly beheld the contirmation
of his fears, and the necessity, had it been pos-
sible, for redoubled exertion. The ground dea-
cended steeply, but unevenly, inte a hollow glen,
one side of which was skirted by stunted and
straggling brushweod, that fringed what was
called the carriage road, while the other sloped
down to a sort of shingly bottom (the black glen),
through which a mountain stream brawled angrily
and restlessly on its way. This place had been
eelected by Breen as the moat fitting for his pur-
pose, and at the moment the moon shone ferth,
the renegade had commenced rifling the carriage
of Freney’s early friend. The old gentleman's
faithful servants had evidently made a desperate,
and not a bloodless resistance; and, as the enp-
tain of the gang neared the spot, his blood boiled,
aud his heart throbbed, for in the dim hght he
beheld Norah Dartforth, with dishevelled tresses,
supporting her father in her arms, as she hal!
knelt, halt reclined by the way-side.

The group was one that Salvator only could
have painted, nor would it hare been unwortliy of
his pencil. ‘The brightness of the clear full moon,
from which the ill-omened, scowling clouds were
rapidly receding, leaving her alone and queen-like
in Lhe purity of her own heavens: the abrupt and
frowning mountain, glowering like a gigantic and
malignant spirit over all within its influence; the
wild and tangled copsewood that partially shaded
without obscuring, the singular and dissimilar as-
semblage, that had for ite centre the antique and
picturesque carriage, while the richly dressed ser-
vants and the beautiful and interesting attitude
of the kneeling girl finely contrasted with the de-
moniae appearance of the lawless plunderers.
But even my king of painters, had I power to re-
call him frem his repose in that warm and sunny
country—

“ Where the poet's lip and the paiater’s hand

Are most divine,”
mnat have failed in conveying an idea of the sue-
cession of mingled and warring feelings that were
manitested, when Freney, fieree and terrible as
the mountain-spirit, bis horse covered with foam,
his eyes flashing with rage and indignation,plunged |
m amongst them.

“ Villain!” he exclaimed, evizing the wre'ch
Breen by the collar, ar a massive pocket-book.
large enongh for a modern folio, dropped from
the falee fellow’s grasp; while, with his other
hand Freney drew from his belt a large horse.
pistol—" you are a fit example for all who dis-
obey orders,’” he continued with a frightful evol-
nese of tone and manner.

ed off with bimself bke an excisemam ; and, as
asy as ever I could, 1 made the crathurs change |
places again, like the great parliament lords ; and
ye may go bail, it’s little 1 heeded foderin’ the |
vow, though she turned her head to me, nataral |
as a Christian; and knowin’ yer saddie was par- |
ticular, 1 changed that too; and God sees I was |
tremblin’ for all the world like a shakin’ bog, till |
I got out of the place ; and the end of it waa, 1)
seen the gentry off, and Breen wasn't long behind;
but be was terced to go asy at first, on account
of the read. the short cut, ye know, beim’ broke
up wid the rain; but for tear hed suspect (for
the baste must fall lame when he puts any speed
upon it), I thought it most prudent, ye see, jist to
litt Beetstakes out of the shed intirely, and se J

led him reund to the black thorn at the left, by | being

the gap, in the corner. And now, captain, ‘yra!
ye may think as ye plaze, but grim as ye look all
this time, I've done a friendly turn for you and
the baste, and

“ Grim as I look!’ repeated Freney, his gal-
lantry and his grateful teelings both rousing to
meet the acensation; “ mv darling Nelly, I never
loved ye half as well as at this moment,” he con-
tinned, energetically, at the same time nupriating
no very gentle salute on her lips. Ellen drew
the back ot ber hand across her mouth, as if to
efface the kia. and then replied: ;

+ Faigs, Captain, Pi! not say that’s a lie, and
yer the love ye talk of isn’t deep enough to sino-
ther a kitten; I see as plain as I see the moon in
the aeavens, that I'm not the sert for you to fix
honourable love upon——and for the other sort, I'd
acorn it, as men scorn the women they bring to

’
wr

| ejaculated the unfortunate man.

“Merey, and hear me!” entreated the caitiff.
falling on his knees “ther is no blood spilt to
aignity—no harm done:" then, suddenly recol-
lecting himself, he added, “sure 1 can’t under.
stand why ye trate me after such a fashion—
judgment afore death, in this world, anyway.”

“ «Look here, boys,” persevered the captain,
without loosening his hold, ‘my orders were given
—-my orders have been disobeyed, and thus IT
punish all—ay-—erery mother’s son who dares
toe think and act in opposition to them! He
cocked the pistol, and placed its muzzle close to
the wretched man’s ear, while all who breath-

|

his utmost speed was required, used weil the | almost overpowered him. After issuing hie brief

| directions, he walked te where Miss Dartworth
had returned te support her father, and hardly

What the feelings of Nelly Clarey were, must answered the question of eve of his party, whe
now, for ever, remain unknown, even te me, her having discovered the person | before mentioned,
faithful bistorian; all I can record of her is, that asthe tamily * toady,” esiled up, or rather squat-
she repeatedly wiped her eyes with the corner of | ting, like the cile reptile, whose name appropri-
ber apron, and then gazing, only for a moment, | ately belongs to his claas, under huge furze-bush,
on the spot where be had disappeared, with » diazerd him forth, and held him, after the
deep-drawn sigh retraced her eteps to the miser- fashion of a bale of cloth, at either end, while be

exclaimed, “ Captain, dear! what's te be done
wid this pareel! Sore the gentleman ‘ud be glad
to get nid of it any way; thongh, I'm thinkin ‘, ite
little good is in it for man or baste.’

The eld gentleman was evidently labouring
under an abberation of mind, brought on by ter-
ror, and contending feelings: hie every nerve
trembled, and it was with great difficulty that his
danghter and bis own servant supported or rather
carried, him towards his carriage, by that time
ready for bie reception. He pertectly understood
that the young man whe tendered bis services to
assist him forward, and had saved his property,
perhaps his life, waa the same he had first che-
rished, aud then abandoned; but be did not ap
pear te understand the light in whieh he stevd,
as captain of the rovbers: he seized hia proffered
arm with the eagerness of a drowning man,
eatching at aught that is even symbolic of hope,
and looked ling and earnestly into his face; at
length, his pale, dull eyes filled with unbidden
tears, and with a powertul etfort be threw bimaelf
on the brigand’s neck, lifted up his voice, and
Wept most bitterly. It was a time of trial for
all, and, in after years, was often thought of.

_ Mr. Dartforth was at length placed in the car
riage, and, in broken accents, he entreated Freney
to enter with bim. “All shall be youra, James,
as before,” be wurmured; “sure you've saved
my life. Norah, you speak fir me, he alwa
heeded yeu.” This was more than F
bear: he rushed from bis grasp, ordering the
coachman tu drive on, in w tone of ywice not to
be disobeyed.

I have heard that Mr. Dartforth never perfectly
recovered from the effects of that night's adven-
lure; the consciousness that the youth he had se
loved was the rapparee chief, upon whose head
a price was set, and who euffered the curse of
Ishmael, even in his own land, embittered every
hour of his existence ; but worse, even than that,
was the con-ciousness that his mismanagement
had led to such fearful consequ-aces. Even those
who had suffered from Freney's plunderings
were ready to admit there was that about him
which, bad it been properly managed, would have
rendered hi the admiration, not the terror, of
hisecountry. And, with thie miserable knowledge,
the old man descended to his grave, ignorant of
what a few years longer life would have informed
him-—--for Freney, in process of time, poate,
and became reformed, and finished bis days, in
peace and quietness, in the town of New Ross.

— ee
MISCELLANEOUS,

Tue Jamaica Hovse or Assempny, — Mr,
Georze Price, senicr member of the Legislative
Council of Jamaica, thus describes the com-
position of the House of Assembly in that

Island :—

‘The Assembly consists of forty-seven mem-
hers, Within the last thirty years there have
been three black members in it; during the
iast three years theve has not been one, but
there are ten of its members more or less co-
lored, seven of them only slightly so. One of
the ten keeps a retail shop, and one has kept
a livery stable, but has no property. (There
was once a prize-figliter in the Commons of
England.) One was once the editer of a lead-
ing paper, and the haeee 4 for the Legislature ;
he now owns eousiderable property, aud is the
chairman of the committees of the Assembls.
These three are very old members of the As-
sembly, and have always supported the Crown.
One of the ten owns a large store of ésintes’
supplies, and has good property; one is a part-
ner of the first mercantile house in Kingston;
four are solicitors, of whom three are also
clerks of the peace, with good salaries and good
private practice, and one is the Sperker of the
Assembly. The late Mr. Gordon was one of
the ten, and no one has ques:ioned his ability
or the respectability of his late position. There
are thirty-seven white members. Of these,
three are large storekeepers, doing also mer
chant’s business; two are merchants of the
first class in Kingston, one was lately a banker,
two are editors of leading newspapers, one @
civil engineer, one a Crown surveyor, two phy-
sicians, one the inspector of hospitals, one an
official assignee, one a clerk of the peace, with
a good salary and private practice, one a bar-
rister and Queen's advocate, one a Master in
Chancery. Of these, and of the other white
members of the Assembly, five own one small
suvar estate or a cattle farm; nine own one

larze estate, or coffee property, or represent
other estates; and elevén Own more than one

zond property, and some of them several,
There belag thas twenty-six land owners ia the
Assembly, it is not true that the landed interest
is improperly represented. About thirty-four
of the forty-seven members of the Assembly
received their education in England; forty of
the monmbers are justiees of the e, not
ex officio, but by appointment from different
Governors. The gentlemen of the law are not
justices; eight are Custodes, specially selected
by the Crown, as heads of the mazistraey in
their districts, and they appoint the clerks of
the peace. They have associated with them
two hundred and seventr-five magistrates, and
I may mention that in the questions which have
most agitated the Island during Governor Eyre’s
adininistration, three of the Custedes have
atood by him, and five have opposed him as a
duty to the Crown.”

A punster in human form declares that it is no
wonder that American finances are in a state so
far from entisfactory. He asserts (hat ewerything
depends upon the “ money of account "—the unit
by which you reckon, England, he says, eae
alwaye pay twenty shillings in the pound—* ia
fact” (this he whispered below bis breath), “she
ia pound (or “ bound "—we did not quite catch

lessly beheld the seene, appeared paralyzed by
the energy and determination of this singular |

“ For God's sake ! a8 you expect mercy at ye
dying day! don’t send me out of the world with-

out crose or prayer

one, one minute to make my | debt.

the word), “to do so.” France is a ways pre-
pared with a “franc” statement of her liabilities,

| Even Spain, who is proverbially considered in-
your | solvent, reckoning ber liabilities in “reals,” ean
| at any time make out ar account of ber “ real”

“It is only America,” he siys, “whieh,

soul! Ok! for the sake of the motber that bere | summing up her financial position, will find the

ye, remember another womans sou id
bad little effect, and in another moment he would
have been launched into eternity, had not a s:nall

on Freney's shoulder, and a gentle voice, tremb-
ling and faint from agitation, exclaimed “ For-
bear!” By degrees, his firm grasp relaxed, the

'

trembled at that gentle touch
|

Dartforth. “ by what power you command those |

shame; I didn’t think 80 once, may-be--(the poor
girl's voice faltered), but ] see this day the raale

\bame o’ love from under yer hood, wheu it wasnt
lat me ye looked, and I felt

the differ ;—but never
heed it, Captain, aroou {and she drew herself
up, and laughed a light, bravoing laugh, which
any one could hear came from the lip, not the
heart, and then balf said, half sung the vid
satanz?:
“*While me ye thonght for to beznile,
I eared for another all the while:
Aud knew, my boy, what ye were at;
Och! never fear bat I spiced ye, Pat!
Wid yer smiles,
And yer wiles!
And by the same rule,
Ye thiok every girl you meet a fool !"”’
Freney was too earnest, ton occupied, to play
allant
OS observing, at he hastened towards the
spot where his realiy poble animal pawed the
earth, with “ proud impatieuce of iguoble

ease

“ Well, Nelly, eweethearting out of the ques
tien, you have acted the part of a true friend,
whieh by God's blessing, I will never forget to
you er yours. Save ye! my brave less! Tue
head and the heart of an [rishwoman are always
ready when waoting, aud, faith, that's wore thao

men; but I recognize the playmate of my youth ; |
‘purely stain his hand with bleed.”
| filles me,” he replied, earnestly, “that, |
‘though Patrick James, and James Freney, are |
‘one and the same person, I bave nothing to do
| with thie night's antertunate affair. I have not
| forgotten, Norab—pardon me, Miss Dartforth--I
‘have not forgotton what I owe to your boase,”’
| He turned abruptly trom her, as if afraid te trust
[himeelt under ber influence.
| trembling misereant ! To the lady ye wonld bave
plundered you owe your lite,” he continued, after |
a moment's pause, addressing Breen. who did not
‘need to have the permission repeated. “And.
‘new, my men, belp Mr. Dartforth’s servanta to
replace what you would have plundered. Breen,
your assistance is not required—you hold ne com-

them, except yourself, would have dared to dis- |
obey me — you and one other. All «hare of booty, |

fur the next three months, I disclaim ; there, re- | ed in the whale fishery ; 1200 in the c
; place the things, my fine fellows, aud 1 will count mackerel fisheries ; *

‘scores with you afterwards.” ;
| Freney's utterance and actions were rapid and |
energetic: his followers did as he commanded,
with the ait of persous who eb-y more from habit
‘than inclination. Jt was, nevertheless, obvious

that Preney wae

His entreaties | ous!

;

“ Rise, ye pour, |
‘taken up his old quarters in the tra

ident to a New York paper.
‘tried and broken down man—two suns ha
‘fallen in the war, and an only daughter has

on this occasion; and contented him- tyynion with my free-hearted boys; not one of | died in a Paris nunnery.

wget agitated, uot from guy | wealsh

rapidly | arithmetical result truly and unmistakably dvilar-

”

I ee

Tur Evipence Ixcreases.—Every day the

white hand, for the second time that night, rested | colume of evidence increases in favor of Mrs. 8.
| A. ALLEN’s Werld’s Hair Restorer and Zylobalsa-
| mum, or Hair Dressing. If your hair is thin, try
lion melied inte the lamb, and the outlaw, whe | them, If scurvy. try them; if harsh, try them; if
braved the ordinances of man, and whe would not none of these, still try them, for all who use they
have quailed beneath the iren grasp ef justice, 4 jl) preserve their hair throngh life. Every Deag-

; 2 _ | gist sells them, W.R.
“IT know not—I dread to know,” aid Miss tor Pp, E, Island.

Watson, E«q , is the Agent

Brown's Broncitar Trocues clear and give

and the child my angel mother fostered will not strength to the voice of Singers, and ere indes
| pensable to Public Speakers. “d recommend

their use to Public Speakers.” Rev. BE. HH.
Chapin... -- “They have suited my case exactly,
relieving my threat and clearing the voice so that
] eould sing with ease.” T. Ducharme, Choris-
ter French Paris Church, Montreal —Sold by all
Dealera mm Medicine at 25 cents per box.
A Paris letter says: ** John Mitchell —
ne
part of this capital (Rue d Enfer,) and fet
tles down in the calm capacity of cor
Ile is a

Provincetown, Mass., has 500 men em “<-
an

Nobater fiehing,
agit total “td